


A Rule of Three

by PyrophobicDragon



Category: Dragalia Lost (Video Game)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Fairy Tale, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-08-20
Updated: 2019-08-20
Packaged: 2020-09-19 10:47:25
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,974
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20329867
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/PyrophobicDragon/pseuds/PyrophobicDragon
Summary: Once upon a time, there lived a man named Curran.A fairy tale AU.





	A Rule of Three

It was a cold night. Their army had been on the retreat for days now, fleeing from a fleet of Empire soldiers. They were lucky to escape and have a moment to finally make camp and begin to catch their breaths. Their supplies were dwindling, and while they had foraged enough food from the nearby forest to have a meager supper, it was not nearly enough to make up for the energy and stress of the last few days, and most of the adults had chosen to go hungry so the younger members of their army could have full bellies.

Though they were mostly safe, a constant cloud of anxiety hung over the camp. And that anxiety could be clearly seen reflected in the eyes of the young.

Surprisingly, or maybe not, it was Elias’ idea. He had decided that, as the oldest of the children, he had to take responsibility to act as their older brother and leader, so it was he who spoke up.

“Norwin, will you tell us a story?” Usually, Elias would scorn such bedtime stories as too childish for him. But he told himself he was doing it for his juniors, who would go to sleep happily with a good story in their heads.

“A...story?” Norwin repeated dumbly. He had half the mind to refuse. In the mental state he was in, there was a very high chance his story would end up ending unhappily, as they all seemed to do. But he could hardly refuse the wide eyes of Elias, Lowen, Maribelle, and Pia, so he looked around, trying to think of a tale that simply had to end in happiness.

His eyes lighted on two true companions, sharing one cloak wrapped around their shoulders as a blanket, passing a mug of what could be no more than hot water back and forth like it was the finest liquor. He smiled to himself and began.

***

Once upon a time, there lived a man named Curran.

He was an inquisitor, and one day he heard tale of a bishop who abused his power. So he departed for the town where the bishop lived. He had heard along the way that there was to be a tournament for the hand of the son of the lord, and so he decided that he would claim to be a suitor so the townsfolk would not look upon him with suspicion.

He began his investigation quite happily, and by the time that the tournament rolled around he collected quite a bit of evidence that not only the bishop but possibly also the lord were abusing their power. When he departed for the tournament, he was quite pleased with himself, and planned on keeping an eye out for more evidence. If he did win the tournament, he could take advantage of the circumstances to get close enough to truly build a strong case against both the bishop and the lord.

Arriving at the tournament, he nearly laughed. The tournament bracket was filled with vain sons and cruel daughters of fat, wealthy landowners all whom wished to marry the son of a rich, powerful, and ambitious lord, and none of whom truly knew how to use the weapons they were given. He almost regretted defeating them so easily, armed only with his trusty iron axe against their beautifully-crafted gold-plated weapons.

Within minutes, the tournament was over, he had won, standing in the ring as the cruel daughters wailed and cried and the vain sons stomped their feet and whined. But none were as angry as the lord, who had planned on having his son marry the sons or daughters of his fellow lords, hoping to increase his own family’s wealth with the union, only for an out-of-town nobody to defeat all of his ideal suitors and win his son’s hand. 

He reluctantly invited the Curran to his home and offered him a room to stay. But that evening, he called the suitor into his office. “You have won my son’s hand, yes,” he told Curran, “but you may not marry him until you complete three tasks for me.”

Curran did not even want to marry this rich man’s son. While his son Heinwald was a comely fellow when seen from afar, he was sure that he was as vain and cruel as the lords and ladies who tried to win his hand. However, he did want to stay in this mansion so he could discover more of the lord’s crimes and report them to the authorities, so he agreed.

“Your first task is to fill this vessel from the well east of town. Bring it before me, or your life with be forfeit.”

The latter part was quite a shock, but Curran accepted it, for it would help him build a case that this man was unreasonable and dangerous. He went off into his room and began to plan how he would fill the sieve with water. The lord, meanwhile, was very pleased, for he thought that Curran would flee the land and never return when presented with such an impossible quest.

Curran spent the evening packing, and laid down to sleep, planning to leave in the morning.

But late that night, he was woken by a light in his room. Heinwald stood by his door with a candle. Curran had only seen him from afar and had not even spoken to him yet, and so was quite shocked to see him standing in his room in the middle of the night. He approached the bed and said,

“Stranger, are you going to attempt to fulfill my father’s request?”

Curran said yes, he was, though he held his tongue on telling him about his plans to arrest his father. 

“Then allow me to help you in your quest. I have no desire to see an innocent man die trying to win my hand.”

Curran reluctantly agreed, caught off-guard at his offer.

Upon his acceptance, Heinwald explained, “We must leave the castle now, while it is dark. I am forbidden from leaving the mansion, but I have asked my pet dragon, Nyarlthotep, to impersonate me and pretend I am lazing about in bed while I am away.”

Curran was glad he had packed last evening. He took his bag, and he and Heinwald set off east of the town to the well.

Their journey there was quiet. The only time they spoke was when they passed by an old man who called out to them, “Hail, travelers. Where are you going?”

“We are going to the well east of town,” Curran answered. 

“The well has been dry for years. It leaks water faster than a sieve,” the old man replied.

Curran scowled and said, “It was an impossible task from the start.”

“No task is truly impossible,” Heinwald rebutted, and he urged the horse onward.

When they reached the well, he bid Curran to hold the sieve down in the well, as far as his arm could reach. Then he dropped his waterskin into the sieve, and bid Curran to draw the water up from the well.

After doing so, Curran laughed and laughed at the young lord’s cleverness. And Heinwald was very pleased at his amusement.

The return trip was much more pleasant, and they shared water from the remaining skin as they spoke eagerly to one another, finding each other to be good company.

Once they arrived back at the manor, Heinwald snuck off and returned to his room, where he thanked his pet dragon for his help. Curran too returned to his room, and he slept until morning. 

In the morning, Curran took the sieve and the waterskin and the water and went to ask an audience of the lord. He presented it in front of the lord and in front of simpering servants who whispered mocking things behind their their hands and in front of Heinwald and said, “I drew water from the well and brought it before you in the sieve.”

The lord was going to refuse him, to argue against him, to order him executed, but Heinwald spoke. “He is correct, father, he did indeed do what you asked him to do.”

The lord was furious at being outwitted, but knew he would look like a fool if he tried to argue about the particulars of water-drawing, especially since he had never so much as touched a bucket in his life. So he sent Curran away and spent the day pacing his room, gnashing his teeth and pulling his hair, trying to think of a harder task to complete.

And with his father otherwise occupied, Heinwald, as the son of the lord, took over the hospitality duties. He went and visited Curran, and they spoke throughout the whole day. Not only was he good company, Curran also found that he was a fine man, full of biting wit and high intelligence, and he greatly enjoyed their conversations.

The next morning, Curran was summoned to the lord’s side. “Your next task,” said the lord, “is to bring me the ancient crown. It is hidden in the mountains to the north. Bring it to me, or forfeit your life.”

Curran accepted the task, and went away, and the lord was satisfied, for he knew that there was a dangerous dragon guarding the crown, and he was thought that the dragon would get rid of this unwanted suitor once and for all.

Curran spent the evening packing, then laid down in the soft bed to sleep.

That night, he was woken by a whisper.

“Good sir, I will come with you once more on your quest,” Heinwald said once he roused.

Curran readily agreed, as he had been good company and good help on the last quest.

So once more, Heinwald bid his dragon to take on his visage and occupy his room. And once more, Curran and Heinwald left the castle in the middle of the night, heading for the mountains to the north. They had a pleasant journey together.

On their way there, they met with an old woman along the road. “Hail, travelers,” she called. “Where are you two going?”

“We are going to fetch the ancient crown from the mountains,” Curran answered.

“Be wary, travelers,” the old woman cried. “It is guarded most fiercely by a dragon, who has eaten all that have so much as touched the box it was in. Turn back now.” But they refused and continued on their journey.

Upon reaching the mountains in the north, they discovered a small cave. Its inside was decorated nicely with twigs and sticks and chairs of wood and the occasional spear shaft. In the center of the cave lay a dragon, curled around a wooden chest. Curran reached for his axe, but Heinwald stayed his hand with a look.

“Hail, dragon,” Heinwald called, “we are travelers seeking a treasure.”

The dragon drew itself up, eyes awash with fury. Curran reached for his axe once more, but once more Heinwald stopped him. “Dragon, we do not seek that which is yours. Am I correct in assuming that you are more interested in the box than the contents?”

The dragon blinked. “My treasure has something inside of it?”

The dragon opened up its chest, the crown jewel of its hoard, never opened before today. It discovered inside was a beautiful crown, made of gold, decorated with jewels that gleamed with their own inward glow. But the dragon had no interest in the crown, for it was of cold metal and not warm, soft wood.

“Oh. You may take it. I care for it not.” Speaking thus, it threw the crown aside and lay back down and curled around its greatest treasure.

And so Curran and Heinwald retrieved the ancient crown.

They rode back to the manor, where Heinwald snuck back inside and thanked his dragon for his help. Curran went and slept the night, then in the morning went to the lord’s audience and presented the crown in front of the lord and in front of scornful servants and in front of a pleased-looking Heinwald.

And the lord was furious once more at the completion of his impossible quest, and he sent Curran away while he thought of his final task. And once more, Heinwald kept Curran company, now for reasons of friendship rather than politeness.

In the morning, Curran was summoned to the lord’s side yet again. “Sir Curran, there is a skeletal crow that sings in the graveyard that lies to the west. Go there and retrieve it, or your life with be forfeit.”

Curran agreed, and this time the lord knew that he would be rid of him once and for all. He knew that the bird would speak nothing but truths, and he knew that once the bird told the suitor everything about his son Heinwald, the suitor would flee from the marriage himself. 

While Curran slept that night, he was woken by a hand on his brow. “My friend,” Heinwald said somberly, “I will be unable to accompany you on your final quest. My friend the dragon has told me that my father has become suspicious, and I will be unable to sneak out of the castle tonight.”

Curran was greatly saddened by this, for he enjoyed travelling with Heinwald at his side. And he was invaluable help on the previous two tasks.

Heinwald said, “I have three gifts for you, my friend.” First he drew out a gold ring. “A shiny object to attract the crow.” Next he drew forth a gold chain. “A chain to bind the crow.” Before presenting his final gift, he hesitated and spoke shyly. “And finally...a kiss, for a safe return.” And he leaned down and kissed Curran’s brow, over his scar.

Curran was glad for those three gifts, the third one most of all. And though he greatly desired to draw Heinwald in for another kiss, he thought that if he did it would lead to activities that must be reserved until after they were wedded.

So he departed for the graveyard to the west, this time alone save for his three gifts. 

On the road, he met an elderly couple. “Hail, young man. Where are you going?” they asked.

“I am going to the graveyard to the west, to catch the skeletal crow who lives there,” he answered.

“Be wary,” they said. “The gates are guarded by a snake, who will ask you three questions. You must answer them all truthfully to pass.”

He thanked them for their advice and rode on.

When he arrived at the graveyard, its gates were shut by the coils of a small red snake. The snake raised its head as he approached. “Who are you?” asked the snake.

“I am Curran, the inquisitor,” he answered.

“What is your quest?” asked the snake.

“I am here to retrieve the skeletal crow,” he answered.

“Why?” asked the snake.

He paused.

Why was he doing these ridiculous tasks? Was he here to save his own hide? But he could simply flee, and leave this town behind, and report the bishop and the lord to the Church and gather other inquisitors to take care of their wrongdoings. Was he here to continue his investigation until he was certain that the lord had committed crimes? But he was very certain, with the evidence he had already gathered, and instead of gathering more he had spent his days talking with the lord’s son.

In the end, he simply had to accept that his original purpose had long since fallen to the wayside. And he told the snake, “I wish to present the crow the lord so that I may marry his son, who I have fallen in love with.”

The snake laughed. “Very well. You may pass.”

As it slithered backwards, releasing the gate, it said, “Do you know why this crow died?”

“No,” answered Curran.

“It spoke the truth, and its master was so angry he strangled it to death.”

Then Curran passed through the gate. Immediately he spotted a murder of crows sitting in a tree, twenty black birds and one bleached-bone white. He set the ring down on the floor and backed away. The birds flew down and bickered over the shiny gold ring, while he snuck up on and seized the bone bird.

As he bound its feet with the gold chain, the bird cried, “Heinwald’s sister commited suicide!”

Curran ignored it and left the gates of the graveyard.

“She committed suicide because her beloved died!” the crow croaked.

Curran mounted his horse.

“Her beloved was executed for conspiring and failing to murder her cruel father!”

Curran set off for the manor.

“Her beloved was caught because Heinwald deduced his activities and tattled to his father!” And the crow chortled all the way back to the manor.

***

Curran returned to the manor late at night. He rested, then in the morning, entered the office of the lord. He presented him with the skeletal bird, with the gold ring shoved around its bony beak.

The lord was incensed at his return. But his three tasks had been completed, and though Curran must have heard the truth from the crow, he still remained in his office. And though Heinwald could not look at him directly, cowering behind his father’s chair, Curran stood with his hands behind his back and said politely, “I would like to receive my prize, please.”

The lord gritted his teeth and said, “Very well. You will be wed to my son tomorrow.”

Curran said that would be very agreeable, and went off to his room. He waited for Heinwald to come and visit him, but he did not see his friend that day.

That night, he was woken up by a light in his room. Heinwald, his dear friend, stood by his door with a candle. He did not come any closer. With his eyes lowered, he said, 

“Good sir, you’ve been through many troubles to satisfy my father’s demands. And though your three trials are up, I’m afraid I must ask you to fulfill one last task.”

“I will do anything for you,” Curran vowed, but Heinwald did not look at him.

“Tomorrow, this house will be filled with every vile person who supports my father. You must cleanse this house of its wicked, for I know you are an inquisitor and that is your Goddess-given task."

Curran was not surprised to hear that Heinwald had long deduced his true purpose here. And he told him so, amusement coloring his voice. Heinwald laughed, but his laugh was thin and hollow, and he still did not look at him, and Curran did not know why.

The next day, he rose and dressed in his finery. He took the box that he prepared last night and headed downstairs. Sure enough, the dining hall was filled with the wedding guests--that is, every person who helped or turned a blind eye to the lord’s misdeeds.

Curran approached the lord. “Sir, I’d like to present to you the dowry,” he said.

The lord’s eyes lit up with glee. Despite himself, he was impressed with this suitor’s abilities, and he wondered what treasures he had brought back from his adventures that he thought worthy of a dowry. “Present it to me,” he demanded.

Curran opened up the box. Inside was his axe.

He withdrew his axe and first killed the abusive priest that brought him to this town. Then he killed the wicked lords, and their vain sons and cruel daughters, and he killed the simpering servants. Finally, last but not least, he killed the lord, Heinwald’s father, and was glad for his death.  And though the simpering servants beat him with their trays, and though the vain sons withdrew their swords and attempted to run him through, and though the cruel daughters drew their bows and attempted to shoot him, it seemed as though none of their attempts could do so much as scratch him.

Among the carnage, his fiance Heinwald and his pet dragon watched silently. And when it was done, Curran rejoiced, and approached him. “Come away with me,” he bid. “Come with me to the house of my friend, a priestess, and we will be wed.”

“You may not marry me,” Heinwald answered, “for you have not completed your final task.”

Curran was confused, for they were surrounded in the blood of the wicked. Heinwald stood up from his chair and went around the table. Then he knelt down in front of his friend and said, “I killed my sister and her beloved. I must die in order for this house to truly be clean of its evil.” And though he was convicted, after he finished speaking he began to quake, for he too loved Curran deeply, and as he waited for the killing blow he desperately wished that he was without sin so he could live on at his side.

But Curran set down his axe and knelt down and hugged him. “Falsehood and lies. You are no more wicked than I.”

“That is untrue,” said Heinwald.

Then Curran rose and asked the dragon Nyarlthotep to bring forth the skeletal crow. He unbound its beak and asked, “Crow, who only speaks the truth, is Heinwald wicked?”

“No,” answered the crow, “he is a good man.”

“Crow, has all the evil from this house been cleaned with the deaths already wrought?”

“Yes,” answered the crow, “No more evil shadows this place. Now, if a good man runs this house, the land and all who live here will prosper forevermore.”

“Crow, should Heinwald live, and marry me?”

“Yes,” answered the crow, “for you have been won his hand thrice over, and vows must be kept. For that is what his sister and his brother-in-law want. For you two will have a happy union.”

And with such incontrovertible evidence, Heinwald agreed to live and to marry Curran.

And so, the inquisitor and the new lord of the manor removed themselves from the dining hall. They went away to the house of Curran’s friend the priestess, who presided over their wedding.

And they lived happily ever after.

***

The four children sitting in front of him clapped, but the sound of eight hands meeting is joined by many others. Norwin looked up and realized that others had joined their impromptu storytime, including the two men featured prominently in his quickly-spun yarn. He blushed and addressed them, but mostly Heinwald. “Ah, I’m sorry…”

Heinwald waved a dismissive hand at him. “Have no worry. I have no need to keep my past a secret from anyone.” The firelight danced across the gold band on his left hand.

“It was a good story,” Curran said with a grin, “especially on the fly like that.”

“What can I say?” Norwin demurred. “I suppose you two are inspiring.”

Meanwhile, Lowen gazed up at Heinwald. “Is there any truth to that story, Mr. Heinwald?”

“Some,” Heinwald told him, “but the most egregious  _ untruth _ is that I would have never helped Curran with his tasks.”

“You jerk,” Curran said affectionately. 

“It is merely because I know you to be clever enough to complete those quests on your own,” Heinwald said, and Curran blushed and punched his arm lightly. Then he kissed him on the cheek, which made Maribelle yell, 

“Ew! Kissing!” which in turn made Curran smirk at the grinning girl and mock-growl,

“You think that’s kissing, kiddo? I’ll show you kissing!” And he wrapped his arms around Heinwald’s waist and dipped him, kissing him passionately, as the children all giggled and made loud gagging noises and some of the adults joined in too and Heinwald began smacking him on the back trying to halfheartedly protest.

And Norwin looked at his two impromptu muses and smiled.

Happily ever after, indeed.

**Author's Note:**

> I LOVE fairy tales and writing fairy tales! So of course I wrote one for these two :3
> 
> I imagine Heinwald is pretty forthcoming with his past, which is why Norwin knows about his sister and brother-in-law and such. (I also imagine that Heinwald and Norwin had had a few discussions about grief and feeling adrift after losing everyone you're close to, but that's not really relevant to the story, LOL)


End file.
